Well done,the manticore said, sarcasm edging its tone.They’re both shifters.
Obviously he’d already known it about Levi, but Kieran was a new one. It made sense, though, given that they’d both seemed confused by him. Maybe this townwasfull of shifters.
Poppy came up next to him. “Thanks for coming,” she said, her voice full of gratitude. “While we’ve managed to deal with the, um, immediate problem, we do have another, ah, issue that we could use some help with. But first, you should all come in out of the cold.”
“Is there anyone else hiding out there?” Max said jokingly.
The others all shook their heads… but then a voice he didn’t recognize spoke up.
“Just one more.”
Max’s head whipped around, his manticore ready to spring.
A man stepped out from the trees, and smiled a thin smile.
“Hello, son.”
Chapter 17
Max stared.
… Son?
Of course, he understood what the man before him was saying. His stomach turned over inside him. It would be pretty hardnotto know the meaning of that word. But....
But can I trust him?
He’d just had an encounter with a fae who’d kidnapped him, tricked his mate, and tried to steal his powers, without a care if he and Poppy had died as a result of his crazed scheme.
In his mind, fae were, at this moment, emphaticallynotto be trusted. And he certainly wouldn’t put it past one to pretend to be his father for as long as it took to make him drop his guard, and then try to steal whatever powers it thought he had. Max still wasn’t quite clear himself whatthosewere, except that they had helped him completely incapacitate the fae who had kidnapped him and who had lured Poppy to the shack.
A snarl tried to force itself over his lips – the first timethathad ever happened that Max could remember. But then he heard a growling within him at this new possible threat, and he knewit was his new shifter form, trying to come to the surface once more to protect his mate.
His mother had been right – shifter forms reallywerehard to control. He could see why she’d said he’d need her help if he ever did learn how to shift.
But just as his manticore tried to force its way to the forefront of his consciousness as Max battled with it to maintain control over his own body, he felt it hesitate.
Is this… our father?
Max blinked.
He’d been four when his father had left. His memories of him were nothing but vague, half-formed things, just an impression of laughter as a man had swung him up into his arms, of warmth and care. Until it had all disappeared from his life, suddenly, and, at the time, inexplicably.
But it seemed that his manticore remembered, even if he didn’t.
Isthis man my father?
Swallowing, Max forced himself to take a few steps toward the man where he stood amongst the trees, his knees wobbling.
He couldn’t remember his father’s face very well, but there was something familiar about the man who stood before him now. His father had been tall – that he recalled. And he’d had dark hair. But still,tallanddark-hairedcould describe any number of men, some of whom were watching him staggering through the snow now and were definitelynothis father.
The way the man looked wouldn’t help him now – Max knew that somehow, he’d have to be able to tell what the truth was by instinct alone.
And if I can’t, I’ll have to deal with this new threat to my mate the same way I dealt with the other one,he thought grimly, as little as he liked the thought. The power that had flowed through him at that time had felt amazing while it hadbeen happening, of course – but now that it was over, Max found himself a little frightened of it. What would he have done if Poppy hadn’t been there to stop him from going too far?
But as it turned out, there was no need for him to test his limits a second time – as he got close to the man, he was suddenly overwhelmed by a wash of memories. Almost as if some locked box inside his mind had been suddenly thrown open, sending its contents billowing out into his consciousness.
His father helping him blow out the candles on his third birthday cake.
